


the jinn

by WhiteJackal



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Disney - All Media Types, The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, and AND in which i flesh out a HORRIBLE hc about jay's mother omg, and in which i make him himself in DESCENDANTS, in which we don't forget that jafar is HORRIBLE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteJackal/pseuds/WhiteJackal
Summary: there could only one so powerful as he.OR, jafar and his son.





	the jinn

**Author's Note:**

> "jafar cared nothing for an heir. he cared nothing for passing on his inheritance to a child of his body. and he cared nothing for that boy..."
> 
> prequel to "the isle of the lost" and "descendants" // blended movie(s) and book(s) canon, with au elements

Jafar found his magick in the sands.

He told the story often enough: how he, a nothing-boy of nothing status, wandered into the desert, chosen and called by the moon and the stars and the whispering sands. How he found the gods in the wilds, and how they deemed him worthy to be a conduit of their powers. How everything in Jafar’s blood, everything in his magick, was rooted in the nature around him: in the flames of the sun, the winds of the east, and the hissing of the serpents.

 _The street rat called me a snake_ , Jafar would laugh. _How right that filthy miscreant was._

 

 

There was a moon, and there was a sun, and there were winds, and there were certainly snakes on the Isle of the Lost. And Jafar felt their pull, heard their calls, and he ached. He would arch his back, his long fingers reaching for the phantom staff, itching to hiss and understand and enter the minds of the creatures he felt more akin to than humans.

Brainless, weak, stupid, mortal, worthless humans.

_Like his only child._

 

 

No one knew the boy’s mother.

No one save Jafar and the woman herself.

He’d lasted the longest after the Beast's rise to power and prominence, risen from the dust by the powers among him—the powers that still claimed him long after he’d abandoned them for the jinn—to hide and float and scamper in Agrabah’s desert sands, tucked away in the dunes and caves and holes, and always biding his time.

Jafar was nothing if not a patient man.

 

 

But his madness won its way.

For who can wield and bear and conduct such powers, such elemental instrumentations surrounding and invading and permeating, without fraying?

And he wanted to ruin that street rat. He wanted to ruin that stupid, fat sultan. He wanted to ruin Agrabah.

_So he ruined the princess._

And he signed his doom, for the street rat had been looking for him, per the Beast’s orders. Their new, pretty little world would do well without the evils of the villains.

But Jafar _left enough behind_ to matter, and he cackled as he was led away, his lamp smashed and ruined, and his staff snatched away, and his eyes dulled and aching and empty.

 

 

When he touched the boy for the first time, shipped over among the other Auradonian castoffs ( _she'd hidden It well; she was smarter and more ruthless than her husband and father, than them all, and Jafar could almost respect her_ ), he knew the squalling infant held none of his powers: nothing he’d worked and scraped and labored and slaved to earn and keep and enrich.

None of his powers _yet_.

Jafar cared nothing for an heir.

He cared nothing for passing on his inheritance to a child of his body.

And he cared nothing for that boy.

So he squeezed his head tightly, stared deep into the crying eyes, and muttered curses.

_The magick, the jinn, the blood, the fire, the snakes, the winds._

They were not for anyone but him.

 

 

He gave the boy half of his mother’s name ( _Jay_ ), for it made him laugh, and no one knew the secret.

 

 

 

Another street rat.

Another thieving, grinning, cunning ingrate.

 

 

Nothing but a pair of working hands.

Nothing but a box ( _and mirror_ ) of memories.

 

 

Nothing to Jafar.

**Author's Note:**

> READ. REVIEW. BOOKMARK. ETC. 
> 
> thank you for how sweet you've all been about my "descendants" pieces! It's very encouraging, and it makes me want to keep writing more, to continue fleshing out the ideas i have about the remarkable world disney and melissa de la cruz created for us all! 
> 
> this one is dark. BUT it makes sense for it to be dark. disney villains are only funny in disney channel movies, ya'll. everywhere else, they're terrifying and evil. 
> 
> this one is also not fantastic. it's definitely not nearly as good or holistic or cohesive as i would have liked. OH WELL! it's done, and it's been posted, and OH WELL. 
> 
> ENJOY!


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